The Play of the Immortal: Installment One
by I' Quenarni
Summary: Four elvish maidens find love and adventure during a festival in the magical land of Kel-Telpeon.
1. Introduction

Introduction  
  
What you are about to read has been in the making since the end of 2001 and the premiere of The Fellowship of the Ring in theaters that December. It came about on the yahoo group Prince of Mirkwood, and by the creative genius of Tigerbleu, an unofficial Tolkien scholar. She was searching for writers to help her create a fanfiction on a scale which most stories only touch upon. The story would take place in Middle-Earth, but in an entirely new country, an elvish land more mysterious than Mirkwood, and lovelier than Lothlorien. Tigerbleu created this land, and she named it Kel-Telpeon. The people who inhabit this place are as mysterious and magical as creatures come in Middle-Earth; naturally, they are elves, and since Kel-Telpeon is a land of water, they were made to live in the sea.  
  
The sea elves, or Nenore, are physically no different from their forest-dwelling elven kindred, but they have webbed fingers when in water and small gills along their ribs. They can also breathe underwater. Kel-Telpeon, if visualized on a map of Middle-Earth, is a small country to the west of Mirkwood and in the middle of the great Anduin River. The story takes place in the year 1701 of the Third Age, approximately 1,317 years before four young hobbits set out for Rivendell with the One Ring.  
  
After hearing Tigerbleu's ideas for this fanfiction (that it would take place in an elvish paradise during a festival, that it would involve original, as well as some of Tolkien's most well-loved, characters) three other writers became involved in the story, and the rest is history. In a story of three installments (two of which are currently in the making), Installment 1: Leaves of Fall is full of action, adventure, romance, and plenty of healthy elvish angst.  
  
I'Quenarni is the group of four writers who have begun this fanfiction. The authors (in alphabetical order), and a few of their original main characters, are as follows:  
  
Dava: Thinhithwen (Lady Rainflower), Lord Nefpaurion, and Alagmenelion  
  
Ista of the Dreamers: Nevlothiel Phelion and King Nelkan  
  
Legoslave: Lady Mirelena and Prince Elearas  
  
Tigerbleu: Lirakel and Prince Hevelis  
  
  
What we have created is a complete homage to J.R.R. Tolkien and his inspiring works of fantasy, and we hope you enjoy!  
  
  
DISCLAIMER: Characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien that are used in the story do not belong to us, and we are not affiliated with New Line or the Lord of the Rings books in any way. Although our original characters belong to us, we could not hope to take credit from the Master of Fantasy.  



	2. Prologue

The Play of the Immortal   
Installment One--The Leaves of Fall  
Prologue: A Legend Comes to Life  
Author: Dava   
  
  
The Play of the Immortal  
  
The month is June. The year is 3018, 26 Afterlithe by Shire reckoning, and it is the dawn of Loa in the far away kingdom of Kel-Telpeon.   
  
Kel-Telpeon was a magical place, free of all evil, with it's gentle waterfalls, and modest woodlands. All who traveled through it felt instantly warmed as they passed under its aquatic gates. There was never a more perfect sight in all of Middle Earth. Yet, perhaps the most appealing aspect of this quiet breathtaking world were the people who dwelled there. For, Kel-Telpeon was home to a clan of truly fascinating Elves known as the Nenore.   
  
The Nenore were quite unique from others of their immortal race, for they had gills on their ribs which enabled them to breathe under water for significant periods of time. They also held in their possession webbed fingers to help them move through the sea at speeds which would've killed the mortal folk. And, most Nenore, though peaceful folk they were, had exceptional battle skills. These Elven Merfolk were ready to attack at a moments notice should they've felt threatened. And the Nenore maidens were the best of this lot.   
  
Yet, in the hour of our tale, the Water Elves lay down their swords in favor of hosting a festival of grand and glorious proportions on their beautiful land. To this master affair, they welcome Elves from all over Middle Earth, gathered together to test their knowledge of game and sport. But a bitter divide can be expected of these powerful creatures of Earth and Water. For, as the games commence, the Elven lords learn that they have, indeed, met their match in these most feminine warriors of the sea. Far and away, the most skilled of the Earthy contenders is Nefpaurion the Wise. Just as handsome as he is tough, it is said that Nefpaurion is untouchable by those of his Lorien race. His way with a sword is remarkable. He rides his stallion with speed and grace, and his archery abilities can only be challenged by those of Legolas Greenleaf, the fair Prince of the Mirkwood Realm. Yet, as the Golden ship of Galadriel docks on Kel-Telpeon's shore, Nepaurion might soon know that the challenges he is about to face are more than he bargained for.   
  
  
"Leaving so soon, Your Highness?" smiled Nefpaurion as he stepped off the ship with the other members of the Lorien Army. "Ah, Legolas. How goes it on this fine summer morn'?"   
  
Legolas was busying himself among his fellow Mirkwood travelers when he turned around in friendly greeting. "Hello Nefpaurion," he replied. "I must confess, I have never felt finer. How can one not feel glorious on a morning such as this, in a place of such splendor?" The two friends laughed heartily as they embraced one another in a most cheerful reunion.   
  
"Oh, how wonderful it is to see you again," said the prince. "I expect you'll be wanting to sweep the Elven games as usual?"   
  
"Naturally!" boasted the elf. Nefpaurion seized his belongings from the beach and began to load them into a smaller, waiting vessel. "As I know it to be, there is no Elf Lord within leagues of Middle Earth who can match my abilities. In fact, I debated whether to come at all. The Elven games seem to be losing their challege with every passing year."   
  
"Ah, but the Nenore clan has not hosted such a festival in many years," replied Legolas, who also began to load up his boat. "You are not aquainted with the folk here. I have it on good authority that the people of Kel-Telpeon are highly skilled, especially the Kel-Telpeon Maids."   
  
At this, Nefpaurion lost his grip on the bundle he was carrying. Seizing the canoe in front of him for support, tears formed in his eyes as he did his best to control the laughter in his throat.   
  
"The Nenore?" he choked. "And . . . the Nenore Maidens?!? Oh, surely you jest!" The young warrior took a moment to compose himself before continuing with a rather pleasant grin. "I mean no disrespect, of course. The Nenore are very gracious indeed to have opened their home and hearts to us. They are a lovely race, yet I doubt they know much about sport outside of these watery gates."   
  
"Do not be so certain, old friend," said Legolas. "There is talk in Mirkwood of a flawless Nenore beauty in particular. A healer of sorts, with an intense love for nature, and exceptional skills of battle. She, who they call "Rainflower.  
  
Nefpaurion ceased his packing for a time and pondered this unusual reply. "Rainflower?" he asked. "Ah, yes. The Elven lass born of a mortal woman. Her name is not unknown in The Golden Wood. Within the walls of the fair Queen's dwellings, I have heard many tales of a Nenore goddess who heals all sickness and converses with the animals. They say she is the loveliest She-Elf to ever walk Middle Earth." The very thought of her brought a smile to the warrior's lips. "But, such a being does not exist," he whispered. "It does no good to dwell on myths, Your Grace. You really ought to know better."   
  
Legolas sighed as he and Nefpaurion finished loading their baggage into the boats and were preparing to set sail into the village, when, suddenly, the winds blew forth a terrible chill.   
  
"Did you hear something?" asked the Prince as he scaled the beach with alarming caution.   
  
Nefpaurion listened closely with his keen elvish ears. "It's coming from the shore!" he shouted.   
  
Together, the Mirkwood royal and the Lorien soldier raced toward the Kel- Telpeon bank to gaze up in astonishment at the sight before them. A great wave was swiftly traveling toward them, and as it neared the beach, began to take on a feminine shape.   
  
"What is it?" gulped Nefpaurion in muffled horror. The great shadow of the water rose high above the Elves.   
  
"I'm sure I don't know," whispered the shaking prince. "Get Down!!!"   
  
Legolas quickly took cover, throwing himself face down into the sand, while Nefpaurion was knocked off his feet by the myterious figure. Bounding its weight upon the Earth, the ocean took the form of a great white horse beginning to gallop, its rider shouting orders of retraction.   
  
"Mithkhelekion, Nilanoon telerin! Nilanoon telerin! (Sea Breeze, turn around! Turn around!) The lady raced toward the fallen lords, and dismounted. "I am terribly sorry!" she cried, as she knelt at their sides. "Are you hurt?"   
  
"Not at all, My Lady," replied Legolas, scrambling to his feet and dusting himself off.   
  
Nefpaurion, however, was not so forgiving. "Though it might do you good to watch where you ride in the future," he added.   
  
The maiden glared at the raven haired Nefpaurion for a moment, before turning her attentions back to the kindly blonde elf.   
  
"You shall have to forgive poor Sea Breeze," she said sweetly. "He does not always obey my commands."   
  
Legolas nodded, watching the Nenore as she extended her hand to his strickened companion.   
  
Nefpaurion grumbled as he got to his feet. " An animal like that one ought to be chained, Lady . . . Umm, I'm sorry. I do not believe I caught your name."   
  
"I have not said it, My Lord." The Elven lady turned and mounted her horse once more. "This animal, as you call him, is a kind and noble creature-" She paused for a moment, pondering this statement before smiting her opposer with "-to kind and noble folk, that is. Futhermore, it may do you well to remember that you are a guest in these parts. You ought to mind your manners, Sir. Our kind are not one you need for an enemy." She took the reins then, bowing politely to the Mirkwood Prince. "My Lord, Gentlemen, I take my leave of you both." With that, the maiden turned on a hoof, and galloped off toward her homeward village.   
  
Legolas bore a playful grin as he looked upon his dusty friend. "Lord Nefpaurion, do tell me. What was it you were saying before about the Water Elves knowing nothing of sport?"   
  
Nefpaurion turned, holding back laughter as he shook his head. "Amin delotha lle. (I hate you) was his reply.  



	3. New Arrival

The Play of the Immortal  
Installment One--The Leaves of Fall  
Chapter 3: New Arrival  
Author: Ista of the Dreamers  
  
  
  
The Play of the Immortal  
  
The outer rim of the wood was golden when Nevlothiel arrived.  
  
She came alone, on horseback. The stallion she rode was a sweet brown dappled white, and he stopped suddenly when they came to the entrance of Kel-Telpeon. Nevlothiel hesitated, then began to nudge her horse forward when a voice stopped her movement cold.  
  
I did not think that you would come.  
  
She did not even have to turn around. Why is that, Celeborn?  
  
The King of Lorien pulled up beside her, his horse a fine silver, and shining in the depths of the forest.  
  
There have been several rumors, Nevlothiel.  
  
She dismounted and he followed her action. Fingering her horse's golden bridle, she faced him, green eyes flashing. Is Galadriel here?  
  
Celeborn nodded. The Lady will be most pleased to see Leithacorm again, as well as you.  
  
I have taken good care of him, or rather, he has taken good care of me. I don't know what I could have done without him these past few years. It will be a sorrow to return Leithacorm back to the Lady.  
  
His home is Lothlorien, said Celeborn. He might miss it, you know.  
  
Nevlothiel's head bowed. I understand.  
  
Celeborn then smiled, raising his arm gently to place it on her shoulder. The Lady has several horses in her stable. Something tells me that Leithacorm will be your companion for quite a long time.  
  
Nevlothiel let out a sigh of relief, and managed a grin. I did not know that so many elves were to be here.  
  
Everyone's coming, said Celeborn. Elrond and Arwen have already arrived.   
  
When Nevlothiel did not reply, he said again, softly, We did not think that you would choose to come.  
  
I am half Nenore, said Nevlothiel slowly. It seems only proper that I should visit my mother's homeland.  
  
You are revered with the Nenore.  
  
Nevlothiel shook her head. What are the rumors you spoke of before, Celeborn?  
  
The King hesitated, then said, Khelek-Ithil. Is it still in your possession?  
  
It is, she said loudly, a hint of anger in her voice.  
  
Is that why you have come?  
  
Is that what Galadriel told you?  
  
He was silent, and Nevlothiel mounted her horse. A crimson cloth, which Celeborn noticed only then, tied securely onto her brown pack. It was in the shape of a sword.  
  
While I am here, I must make a decision, and if I decide to do it, I must do it alone.  
  
And with that, she rode into the tunnel.   



	4. Alagmenelion's Secret

The Play of the Immortal

Installment One—The Leaves of Fall

Chapter Four: Alagmenelion's Secret

Author: Tigerbleu          

            Mithrandir smiled to himself as he entered the clearing beside the river. Full of good humor, elves of different clans mingled together, setting up tents or organizing supplies. Young warriors boasted among friends from different realms and their fellow maidens laughed at their antics as they passed. 

            The old wizard could spot the different clans within any given group. The silvery-blonde Loriens wore loose, silken pastels while the golden Mirkwood elves wore fitted tunics of dull earthy tones. The rich brunettes of Imladris, with their high collars, clashed with the less modest Nenore, who were known for their bright jewel-toned features.

            Mithrandir dismounted near a mixed group of lords and felt an immediate welcome.

            "We had not expected you for at least a day or so." Lord Elrond clasped arms with the Istari by way of greeting.

            "I have matters here that concerned me sooner than I had thought." came the reply as Mithrandir scanned the area. Has lord Alagmenelion arrived yet?"

            "I have not seen him. His daughter has been here, though, boldly stating her presence before Mirkwood's prince and Lorien's mouth."

            "Ah, Nefpaurion will be entering competitions again this year?" the wizard's eyes twinkled merrily. "I shall go now and ask entrance into the city. Perhaps I can speak with Alagmenelion before the celebrations command his attention."

            With a farewell, he made his way down to the boat launch and found a Nenore shipping out goods that could not be waterproofed with beeswax. The young Nenore agreed to take the wizard make with him and was soon rowing swiftly toward the magnificent gateway tunnel of Kel-Telpeon. As they drew closer, Mithrandir admired the way the sun shone on the pounded, pearl tiles of the large dome that rose above the shell-shaped tunnel. To either side, breathtaking towers released thin veils of waterfalls, evidence of the elaborate Nenorean water-pump system.

            Within the tunnel, the little boat was swallowed up in the cool, blue shadows and echoes of lapping water. Blue lamps hung from tall pillars lining the waterway and the Nenore rowed the tiny craft between two of them. 

            The young elf slipped over the side of the boat, into the water. He reappeared to retrieve some rope and looked toward his passenger. Clear eye-lids now made his bright eyes a frosty turquoise. "It will only be a moment."

            "I can wait." Mithrandir smiled, swimming was not listed among his hobbies.

            The elf disappeared and, a few seconds later, a low, wide gate opened in the wall releasing a golden warmth into the tunnel. The elf appeared inside and pulled the craft into a tiny port, closing the gateway behind it.

            Mithrandir thanked him and stepped out onto the wooden walkway. Looking about, he absorbed the warm, safe, comfortable feeling in the air surrounding him. Shops and smithies lined this side of the tunnel. Lamps of gold reflected against the quartz lining the cavern walls and bathed the village in an eternal afternoon glow. The smell of spice and apples tempted the wizard's senses as he made his way to one of the polished stone stairways leading over the top of the tunnel.

            Nearing the top of the stairs, he came across two maidens carrying baskets of vegetables from the rooftop gardens. He recognized one of them immediately.

            "Mithrandir!" the red-head beamed, "What a welcome sight!"

            "I came, all but specifically, to hear your stories, Lirakel." he winked as he passed and began his descent down the other side of the tunnel.

            This side of Kel-Telpeon consisted of homes lit softer than the townside, with lamps of gold, blue, and silver. Tiny streams ran alongside the cobblestones, lining the pathways with fragrant water-lilies.

            Walking down one of the narrow lanes, Mithrandir came to a cozy cottage, not unlike the rest. As he approached the curtained doorway, he heard a crash followed by an elven oath.

            "Is everything alright, Alagmenelion?"

            "Gandalf! Come in, please." The elf lord appeared in the doorway to release a small otter. "And out with you!" The veteran warrior then led the wizard back into his cottage. "Thinhithwen brings a new friend home everyday. She heals their wounds and they wreck my home." He turned to clean up the mess of herbal powder and broken vials across his work table. "So what brings you to my door, old friend? Or, need I ask?"

            "It concerns Thinhithwen."

            Alagmenelion sat down with a sigh.

*****

            Lirakel stood at the port gate, lowering baskets of goods to the water where a few other Nenore waited to float them out. It seemed that more baskets were being set down next to her than she could hand to the floaters.

            "Enough." She muttered to herself and jumped into the water with her companions. "Quickly, before another basket joins our flock." 

            The gates were opened and the expanded group of baskets was herded out by the four young Nenore. 

            "This is the last of my chores." Dalfonin swore as he and the maidens swam toward the shore. "All morning, we have brought the inside outside." 

            "I think I shall stay on the shore this time and simply forget to back in." Lirakel agreed. 

            Other elves took the baskets from the shoreline and the four friends made a hasty escape toward groups of younger elves. Their Nenore clothing dried quickly in the cool morning air, as well as their hair, by some Nenore magic. Lirakel soon found herself cut off from the others by Sea Breeze and Thinhithwen, who sat grinning and breathless upon her steed. 

            "I came across the guard in their hunt." 

            "It was supposed to be a scouting mission." Lirakel declared. 

            "Yes, but they have scouted out three large boars. Look!" 

            Lirakel looked in their direction Thinithwen pointed and saw her father ride into the clearing with his men. Three of their horses were draped with large boars which were deposited near the cooking pit amid elven cheers. 

            "My father loves boar's meat, he will be pleased."  Thinhithwen rode off into the water, disappearing beneath the surface. 

            Lirakel scowled as her own father rode his horse closer. He stared down at her grimly as his men led their horses past him into the river and swam them across to the other shore. Tuyen removed a pouch from his belt and dropped it into his daughter's hands. Lirakel opened the bag to discover a wealth of ripe blueberries. Her scowl was replaced by a smile that lit her whole face. 

            Her father grinned, "I was picking the berries for you when we were rushed by the boars." 

            He tapped his gloved knuckles gently on the top of her head before riding his horse down into the river. Joining his men on the opposite shore, they led the horses away to the hidden stables. Lirakel popped a blueberry into her mouth and ran off to join her friends. She found Koramis greeting Arwen, who had just arrived with her twin brothers from Imladris.

*****

            Thinhithwen had released Sea Breeze under the water to let him go where he may. Surfacing within the city gates, she leapt onto the boardwalk and jogged to and up the stairs. She skipped steps while descending the other side and continued to run through the alleys. Coming closer to her own cottage, she had slowed to a quick walk but crashed into Mithrandir as he made his exit. The wizard caught the maiden's arms before she could stumble backwards.          

            "Gandalf!" 

            "Young Thinhithwen, charging ahead as usual, I see." 

            "Forgive me...I did not know you were here." 

            "Just leaving, I'm afraid. But I look forward to seeing you in the competitions." 

            "I have every intention of winning." she grinned. 

            "I have little doubt, but don't be too hard on the guests, Thinhithwen." 

            As he walked away, the young maiden entered the cottage with a smile.  However, the grave look her father gave her made her stop in her tracks. 

            "Father? What has happened?" 

            "Thinhith.....nothing."  Alagmenelion sighed, then forced a smile into his eyes. "Have you met your competition yet?" 


	5. A Friend, A Meeting

The Play of the Immortal  
Installment One--The Leaves of Fall  
Chapter 5: A Friend, A Meeting  
Author: Ista of the Dreamers  
  
  
The Play of the Immortal  
  
The land of the Nenore enveloped Nevlothiel as she rode around the festivities and gatherings. It was beautiful, the sparkle of water shining everywhere in fountains, streams, and the giant lake. As the Nenore waved at her and smiled, she waved back and wondered if any of them knew who she really was. She wondered if any of them knew what she was carrying in the crimson cloth about her waist.  
  
Amongst the parties going on, she soon felt uncomfortable, and wondered where Arwen was, and her father, Elrond. It had been much too long of a time since she last spoke with them, and maybe once she was around familiar company, she would feel at ease.  
  
She asked a group of Rivendell elves if they knew where the Lord and his daughter were, and they pointed in the direction of a small white pavilion that sparkled like the waterfall to its left. In a trot, Nevlothiel rode there, eyes on the lookout for her friends' faces. The pavilion seemed to be filled with many people, and Nev wondered what they were doing. Curiosity got the better of her as she dismounted and stepped inside the crystal pavilion, the white walls shining like diamonds.  
  
At once, she was blinded by the lights of a thousand jewels hanging from the ceiling, and displayed on glass tables all around the pavilion. Elves moved slowly, looking at the decorations, jewelry, and sun-catchers with awe and a glowing warmth. Nevlothiel was so dazzled by the fare that she didn't even see Arwen until the elf princess was right in front of her.  
  
Nevlothiel Phelion!  
  
Nev blinked, shook her head and smiled with joy. Arwen Undomiel! I was looking for you!  
  
Then you have found me, spoke the princess, her lips barely moving. The Lady wore a light blue dress and a silver cloak, her blue eyes beautiful and bright.  
  
Such a wonderful place, said Nevlothiel, looking around in awe. Whose craft is this?  
  
The children of the Nenore, Arwen said. They made them for the festival, as a gift to us as visitors.  
  
I have not seen such beauty since I last went to Rivendell, or the Lady of the Wood's buildings among the trees in Lorien.  
  
The Evenstar smiled. Mithrandir said the exact same thing.  
  
Mithrandir is here?  
  
Arwen nodded. And he is most anxious to talk with you.  
  
We have not spoken since I was young, said Nevlothiel, but his kindness and warmth has stayed with me through the most gruesome battles and hardships.  
  
There was a silence, then Arwen spoke, We are glad that you have come. Elrond was not certain if you were in battle or not.  
  
I was, she said briskly. Orcs were traveling past the southern border of Mirkwood. Some think that they are heading for the Shire.  
  
How awful! I hope that you will be able to defeat them later- she pressed her hands to Nev's. -but for right now, I'm so glad that you were able to come!  
  
Celeborn did not think that I would come, said Nevlothiel. Have you spoken with Galadriel yet?  
  
whispered Arwen, and her beauty and wisdom grows by the hour. She is truly the heart and the strength of our people. Every time I look upon her face, I feel in awe of her great presence.  
  
Nevlothiel's lips curled upwards. I have only felt that way in the presence of you and Lord Elrond.  
  
Arwen shook her head through an awkward blush. My wisdom comes from my father, and my strength, from my mother.  
  
You are modest, Nevlothiel said with a laugh as they stepped out into the sun, and Arwen started with joy at the sight of the dappled horse.  
  
The horse neighed politely and nuzzled her hand. I did not know that he was still in your possession.  
  
He is my friend, said Nevlothiel quietly, and the only companion I have who has stood fast by me in war and peace. Leithacorm pawed the ground when she spoke. In many instances, I owe him my life.  
  
Such a noble horse must be kept in the royal stables with my own.  
  
I couldn't request such a thing.  
  
No, I will ask the King of the Nenore himself for you. Have you met him?  
  
Nevlothiel was almost surprised. No! Should I have?  
  
We were welcomed personally by him with Galadriel in his company when we arrived. She smiled and her eyes flashed. King Nelkan is most kind, and quite handsome.  
  
Nevlothiel caught her wink, and she said quickly, Well, what with all the water around here, I should think he'd be clean.  
  
Arwen burst out laughing, and the two began towards the royal stables, Leithacorm following them obediently, nibbling sweet grass along the way.  
  
You jest, Nevlothiel, but surely, you must feel curious to meet him.  
  
Nevlothiel stared at the ground, and then said a bit sadly, Actually, no.  
  
She let the cloth slip from her waist a bit so the glint of silver showed. Arwen gasped, and her eyes widened when she replied. Of course! How could I forget about the sword?!  
  
Nev tied the cloth around it again. I have come to return Khelek-Ithil to its scabbard and back from whence it came.  
  
But you mustn't do that! Arwen exclaimed. My father would advise against it as well! It is yours now, given to you for you to carry the rest of your life.  
  
It has been nothing but a burden to me, said Nevlothiel with a sigh. It is time that I give it back to the royal family for the King to own. He must feel great anger towards me because I have it.  
  
He shouldn't feel that way, said Arwen. It was rightfully given to you by your mother, and the Nenore love you for it. You will always be one of them because you hold the Isilme. You are a treasure to them, Nev.  
  
Nevlothiel shook her head. Then they love me simply for the sword itself, not for what I have done. I have never used their own treasure to protect them with. It is what Galadriel warned my father after my mother died of what would happen. The Nenore have had no protectorate since my mother left them, and the royals have been left on their own.  
  
Galadriel knew that it was not your fault, insisted Arwen. She was concerned about the protection of the Nenore, but they have done all right on their own, and see what good the sword has done in Mirkwood. Legolas told me that without your help, many of the battles fought in his father's kingdom would have ended terribly, with greater destruction and loss of life.  
  
I don't know, said Nevlothiel.  
  
Well, what if you decide to use Isilme for the Nenore only? Then they would have the sword back, and you could stay here-  
  
But I couldn't do that! My home has been Rivendell and Mirkwood for so long that I couldn't leave them now.  
  
Arwen managed a soft smile then after seconds of silence. Whatever you choose, Nev, I will support you.  



End file.
